Cleanse Me
by Vanillasiren
Summary: "Extended version" of the driving scene from "In the Name of the Brother." Cora and Regina talk about Rumplestiltskin. Will contain references to my other Rumple/Regina stories. Rated M for language, dark themes and sexual content.


Cleanse Me

Summary: "Extended version" of the driving scene from "In the Name of the Brother." Cora and Regina talk about Rumplestiltskin. Will contain references to my other Rumple/Regina stories. Rated M for language, dark themes and sexual content.

Author's Note:  This may be followed by a companion piece from Cora's POV, if you guys like the first installment. I'm not entirely thrilled as to how this turned out. Feel free to be brutally honest.

It's everything.

How many times has she imagined it, her mother, _her mother_, saying all the things she's longed to hear.

_I love you. I'm so sorry. I never should have made you marry the king._

No, she can't believe it. She can't believe a word her moth … a word _Cora_ says.

_You are the most manipulative …_

_For you sweetheart, anything._

Regina is smarter than this, she knows. She's being played. She's always being played, by her mother, or by …

She never should have pushed Cora through the looking glass. She'd thought she was freeing herself, but all she'd done was trade one puppet master for another.

She should have just killed her instead.

And wouldn't Rumple have just been so proud? That twisted little imp would have probably fucked her right on top of the corpse, giggling madly all the while…

But gods, she's missed her mother _so_ much.

As they drive in the car, Cora pulls out the handprint Henry made for her, when he was small and still thought she was a person worthy of loving.

"Oh, for mommy." Cora coos. "That used to be you."

_Bitch. _Regina's whole body tightens and tenses. _That was never me, and you know it. I _never _called you mommy._ _Except when it slipped out by accident. _

"You call me _mother_," Cora had hissed, whenever Regina had chanced to address her incorrectly, punctuating her words with more than a little magically-induced pain. Her father had been _daddy_ from the day she was able to form words. But Cora was always _mother_, to be addressed with fear and awe and reverence …

Her father's love and approval had been so easy to get, but her mother's had always seemed just beyond her reach.

Perhaps that's why she valued it so much more …

"When were you in my house?"

Cora feigns ignorance, which is frankly insulting. Does her mother really think she's that stupid?

But the rest of what she says is true. Blatantly calculating, but true.

"What do you want?"

"My son back." _And I want you to love me, mother. I want that too._

"And I want my daughter back. I meant everything I said earlier. I am so sorry. I can do better. I won't push you away again." _Yes, you pushed me away. You pushed me away, and I ran straight into Rumplestiltskin's arms. What a fool I was. _"Let me into your heart. Together, we can get him back again."

Tears spill out of her eyes, and Regina leans into her mother's embrace helplessly, feels her arms wrap around her.

Oh, there were times like this. There were times when she was small and she would curl into the soft warmth of her mother, when Cora would whisper that she was sorry, so sorry, that she loved her, that she would never hurt her, but it was just so hard sometimes when Regina made her mad, _all she wanted was an obedient daughter_ and Regina understood that everyone makes mistakes, don't they? And of course she did, and of course she _does_, because gods know Regina has done more than her share of unforgiveable things, and it's not as though her mother ever left any marks, because _we wouldn't want to blemish your pretty young flesh_, _now_ _would we?_ and _I'll be good I promise oh please mother just don't hurt me just love just love me just hold me like this and love me –_

"How?"

"I have a few thoughts." Cora strokes her hair. Regina remembers when she used to brush it for her. In the morning, and then again at night. She was so sad when her mother had decided she was old enough to attend to her own grooming. She might have felt the sting of her mother's magic whenever she did something wrong, but with a comb in her hand Cora was so _gentle_. Sometimes she'd even use spells to smooth out the stubborn tangles, rather than risk causing Regina any pain….

Rumple used to love running his hands through her hair, back when it was long. If she had it pinned up or pulled back or braided or constricted in any way, he'd inevitably wind up teasing it out so it was loose and free, and they'd make lo–

"What are you thinking of?"

Regina starts in her mother's embrace. She looks up at her with wide eyes.

"I was thinking … how you used to brush my hair," she whispers, and Cora smiles. "Will you … will you tell me how we're going to get my son back?"

"First, we need to get the dagger."

Regina's brow furrows. "The dagger. You mean Rumple's … you mean The Dark One's dagger?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because he's the only one who can oppose us, darling. With him out of the way, Emma and her parents won't stand a chance."

"If we control the dagger, we control him," she says softly. A slow, cruel, smile spreads across her face. Oh, wouldn't that be delicious. The student becoming the master after all these years. To have the opportunity to pull _his_ strings, to make that sick bastard dance to _her_ tune –

"We could kill him and take his power," Cora whispers.

"Kill him?" Regina gasps.

Cora shrugs. "Why not? After all he's done to you, to me … oh Regina, half of it, you don't even know. He deserves to pay."

Regina looks away, and Cora sighs. "Don't tell me you're still fond of him."

"I was never fond of him! He taught me magic. That's _all_."

Her mother tilts her chin up, forcing Regina to look directly into her eyes. "That's not all, Regina," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "Is it?"

Regina feels her face burn with shame, and she cries. Cora wipes her tears away and shushes her, telling her that it's all right, that she mustn't cry, even as her own tears flow freely.

"Oh my poor girl, it's alright. Oh darling, I wanted to spare you this, no matter what he said."

"What he said?" Regina whispers.

"He told me he'd have you one day. In every way, he'd have you. Don't you see? He bedded you as _punishment_ for my defiance. Oh Regina, if I had been here I would have helped you, I would have stopped him from turning you into his …"

Her mother can't bring herself to finish, but Regina flinches, because she knows how that sentence ends.

_His whore_. She was never his lover. Belle was – _is_ – his lover, his true love. She was only ever his tool and his whore.

"I'm sure he even made you think it was your idea."

"He … did." Regina whispers, remembering the first time. _Do you want me to beg, Rumple?_

"Darling, it's alright. I know how seductive he can be."

There's a sour feeling in the pit of Regina's stomach, as something occurs to her.

"Mother… mother did you ever …?"

That would be worse, much worse. Even worse than watching Belle break his curse with true love's kiss, even worse than watching him clutch that damn tea cup like it was the most precious thing in the world…

"No, dear. He … he tried, but I was able to see through him."

_Of course you were._ Her mother wasn't stupid like her, she didn't let love and loss and a desperate desire for approval make her weak.

Regina has never felt so filthy.

_She feels Rumplestiltskin's eyes on hers as she moves, cleaning and straightening after their latest lesson. On another night, her lips might have curved in a wicked smile, and she might have made a game of it, sashaying around suggestively, letting her hips sway, perhaps flashing him a teasing grin and she began to slowly remove her clothing …_

_But the mood is not playful tonight. There is something very serious about him tonight, something almost sad. And she takes all her cues from him, and so she goes about her business quietly, with a cool, professional detachment._

"_Regina."_

_She stills at the sound of his voice._

"_Come here."_

_Obediently, she approaches where he sits. _

"_Closer," he says. She moves until their knees are touching._

"_Closer," he whispers, and as she leans in to kiss him, he pulls her down, and then she's in his lap, straddling him._

_Regina slips her tongue into his mouth. She feels him getting hard, feels herself get wet (_wetter_) and she grinds shamelessly against him, letting out a moan when his lips leave hers and he kisses his way down the slender column of her throat. He nuzzles her neck, and then he tugs down her bodice to get at her breasts, cupping and fondling and teasing her nipples to hardness before he takes one in his mouth. And all the while he's pushing back against her, enjoying the friction their clothes create, but at the same time, she knows he wants them both naked already –_

"_Regina."_

_He catches her chin, tilts her face down so that her eyes meet his._

"_Promise me something."_

Anything._ "What?"_

"_Promise me you won't forget."_

"_Forget what?"_

"_This."_

_Regina smirks. "You think I could forget this?" She whispers, and writhes expertly against him again, satisfied to feel his hips buck in response._

"_Promise me." He gaze is so intense that Regina's smile fades, and she kisses him again, more softly._

"_I promise."_

"_No matter what."_

"_No matter what. Rumple … Rumple, hurry now. I want you inside me. I _need_ you inside me –"_

_He magics their clothes off and then thrusts himself into her, groaning, a low, guttural sound. His hands cup her ass as she meets his thrusts eagerly, moans and sighs and words all spilling from her, impossible to hold back:_

"_Rumple. Oh Rumple … like that. Just like that, just like that …. ooooh yes … oh please Rumple, oh please make me feel, make it better, make it all better …"_

"_Regina, my wicked one, my wicked one …"_

"_Make me _come_, Rumple!" She screams, and he loses it and thrusts harder and harder and _harder_ and finally spends himself inside her, and she keens, crying out helplessly as his orgasm brings her own._

_Then they collapse together, still entwined, panting, trying to catch their breath. The air is heavy with the scent of their sex. He kisses her, and when she pulls back and opens her eyes …_

_It's a trick of the light, just like it always is, a trick of the light and nothing more, but he looks so _human_ now, and it makes Regina tremble._

"_I should go," she whispers, and begins to slide off his lap, but he holds her fast._

"_Stay," he says. "Spend the night with me."_

_She blinks. This is quite the reversal for them. Usually, she's the one asking to stay, and he's the one that has to coax her into leaving._

"_But … my husband …" At his expression, she hastily amends, "The king …"_

"_You'll come up with an excuse, my clever wicked one. Won't you?" He toys with a strand of her hair._

"_But I …"_

"_Stay with me," he commands._

"_Of course I will." She can hardly disobey her master._

_He scoops her up and carries her to his bed._

_It isn't long before he's ready again._

"_My wicked one," he whispers, as he takes her once more. "My wicked one. Regina, my Regina … you are mine, aren't you? Say it, I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it. Just once. Just once. _Please_."_

_It's only after their passion is spent several times over, and she is sure he is sleeping, that she puts her lips to his ear and whispers the words:_

"_Yes. Yes, I'm yours. Always, Rumple. Always."_

The next day, Jefferson came to her. The next day, she learned the truth of Daniel's "failed" resurrection. The next day, she confronted him, and he scoffed, and declared their lessons at end, and they parted ways.

Although she didn't know it then, that would be the last time they made love.

No. No, that's not right. It wasn't the last time they made love, it was the last time they _fucked_. They'd only ever fucked. They'd never _made love_.

You couldn't make love to a whore.

He probably planned it all, planned to have Jefferson "accidentally" spill the truth, and wanted to get in one good last screw, wanted to use her _in that way_ one last time. Oh, that wasn't the end to him using her or screwing her over by any means, but that was the end of him pretending he actually cared for her.

Not that she ever really believed he did. Many men may have wanted her, but _Daniel_ was the only one who ever truly loved her.

_Say you're mine_, he had whispered to her. What he'd really made was _Say you're my whore. Say I can use you in whatever way I like and you'll just lap it all up and ask for more, you stupid, love-starved girl._

"Mother," Regina sobs. "Mother, I feel so … _dirty_."

"It's alright, my girl, it's alright. My darling, we'll _cleanse _you. We'll cleanse you in his blood."


End file.
